


All Mixed Up

by TeekiJane



Series: The Boys of Summer [6]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 17:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeekiJane/pseuds/TeekiJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff arrives in Stoneybrook for the summer to find a more welcoming attitude than he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Mixed Up

_Now it’s morning but last night’s on my mind_  
 _There’s something I need to get off my chest_  
 _And no matter what may come to shine_  
 _The dream will always be mine_  
311, All Mixed up

**Jeff**

I hopped on an airplane as soon as possible after graduation. If I could have, I would have left directly from the ceremony and skipped all the celebrating bull crap. I didn’t think it would ever happen, but I was actually _happy_ to leave California this time—to leave behind all the gossip and hard feelings and misery. 

Plus, I was headed to Byron. It doesn’t get any better than that. 

I was pretty quiet on the plane ride. There was this pretty girl sitting next to me in the middle seat. She was a brunette with long, tan legs and a tinkly laugh. She kept trying to engage me in conversation, and at first I’d tried to flirt back with her, but it was just too exhausting. After a while I just pulled out the photo of Byron and me on the beach in Ogunquit and introduced him as my boyfriend. Vanessa had snapped it our last night there, after he’d come out to the whole town by standing on a picnic table and shouting. 

This is something for which I am very proud of him. 

Anyway, after that the girl lost interest. I was able to stare out the window and not think for a while. I watched the landscape change from desert to mountains to plains before I fell asleep. I only woke up because the flight attendant was shaking me. Everyone else had already left the plane. 

Ever since I hit my teen years, my mom has let me get my own luggage and met me on at the curb with her car. So I went through baggage claim and waited on the sidewalk outside arrivals. And waited. And waited. My mom is notorious for being late, but it was starting to get ridiculous, even for her. I was beginning to think that maybe she’d been in a wreck. 

To pass the time, I started watching the other cars go by. There was this one beat-up blue Honda that kept passing. After a few circles, I started counting, but after the sixth go-round, I lost track. A short time later, the Honda pulled up at the curb a ways ahead of me. A short young man with shaggy brown hair and mirrored sunglasses stepped out of the car. I barely noticed because I was looking for my mom again. 

“Jeff! Jeff!” Someone was calling my name. I looked around and saw the young man jumping up and down and waving at me. He took off his sunglasses and I squinted into the sunlight at him. 

It was Byron. 

He ran my direction and started talking a mile a minute. “Your mom had a last minute client meeting, so she asked Mary Anne to come get you. But apparently, Mary Anne’s husband’s car broke down but he didn’t tell her that he took her car to work. So Mary Anne was all in a panic…”

He must have taken Haley’s drug of choice. I just watched him lethargically as he continued to relay the whole story of how he’d come to pick me up. He was wearing a pair of jeans that had seen better days and a plain gray t-shirt that read “SHS Honor Society,” but he’d paired it with a dazzling smile. Byron’s so serious most of the time that you sometimes have to work to make him smile. But that just makes the end result all the more worth it. 

The smile faded as he got a good look at me. “Jeff? What’s wrong?” 

I didn’t reply. Instead, I simply held my arms out to him. Byron had picked up one of my suitcases, but he instantly put it down and took a few steps to me, returning the embrace. I put my head on top of his and we just stayed like that for a moment. Finally, I murmured, “God, I missed you.” 

He didn’t laugh and tell me we’d just seen each other last weekend; he just pulled me closer. “Tired?” he asked. I nodded and he let me loose, picking back up my suitcase. I grabbed my other bag and we headed back to the car. 

So it turns out that the Civic is the car Byron shares with his brothers and sisters. The interior was pretty much what you’d expect from a car driven by five teenagers. The floors were littered with fast food wrappers and other junk and the seats were covered in crumbs. The cup holders and the areas around them were sticky and the air smelled of stale cigarette smoke. I made a face and Byron grimaced. “Mallory,” he said in explanation for the smell. “She seems to think the rest of us don’t notice.” 

Byron put the car into drive and carefully merged into the traffic leaving the airport. He’s a very cautious driver and he hugs the speed limit, but I don’t mind. If you think about it, letting someone drive you somewhere is putting your life into their hands. I don’t think there’s anyone else I’d trust quite as much as Byron in that respect. I closed my eyes and we drove quietly for a while. 

After a while we were on the highway heading back to good old Stoneybrook. I opened my eyes and watched the familiar road go by. “So, how’s school been?” I asked. 

By had put the sunglasses back on, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but there was no mistaking the wrinkled nose. “Same as ever, except we have a lot more stuff due over the next few weeks,” he said. He then checked over his shoulder, put on his turn signal, and changed lanes. 

“And how about the other kids?” 

He took a deep breath and turned to look at me briefly before turning his attention back to the road. Byron held the breath so long that I thought he might die. Finally, he answered softly in a puff of exhaled air. “They’ve actually been better than I expected. A lot of kids came up to me after the article was published and told me they thought I was pretty brave, and I’ve actually had two kids come out to me. But I’ve also gotten a few who want to quote the Bible at me and a couple notes stuck into my locker calling me things I’d rather not think about.” 

I had seen “the article.” A few days before, an envelope had arrived at my house, addressed to me. I didn’t recognize the return address although I knew who must have sent it; the name ‘Braddock’ on the address gave _that_ away. Inside was a cut out newspaper article with a photo. Above the headline at the top of the page was a margin, where, in girly, loopy handwriting were the words. “Thought you’d like to have this. See you soon. Love, Hay.” 

Quite frankly, the text was pretty much what I’d expected. It was a human interest puff piece, making something out of nothing. Byron and I went to prom together. The school hadn’t cared. The school district hadn’t cared. Most of the student body hadn’t cared. But someone at the newspaper cared and they’d written a story about it. Byron hadn’t wanted to talk to the reporter, but I’d answered a few questions. 

I was beginning to wonder if this was a mistake. 

I felt that way for several reasons. First of all, the story was pretty crappy and pointless. And second, I hadn’t even told my mom and stepdad I was going to prom with a boy in general or Byron in particular, and I know they must have seen the article as Richard reads the paper every morning without fail. The headline called us gay teens. I still don’t have a label on what I am, though most days I’m leaning towards bisexual. My dad didn’t react really well when I told him, and my stepmom just plain pretends I never said anything. I don’t know if, for Carol, it’s easier to play that I’m straight so she doesn’t have to deal with my dad’s unhappiness about it or if she’s just waiting for a definitive answer on my sexuality. If she is, she’ll have to keep waiting. 

I was not looking forward to telling Richard I was dating a boy, but somehow I think him finding out from me would have been better than him finding out from a newspaper. 

I changed the subject to something I knew would perk By up. “And how’s Haley doing?” 

Sure enough, he smiled again. “Great! Getting together with Jordan has done wonders for her. She’s back to Happy Hay again.” He chuckled a little. “We got jobs working for the same place for the summer. She started a couple weeks ago and I start Monday after track practice.” 

“Where’s that?” 

Byron laughed again. “Girly Central. That’s not the real name, but that’s what Jordan called it when he found out where I was working.” 

I raised an eyebrow at that. “And what is Jordan doing this summer?” 

“Bussing tables. Apparently, that’s good, manly, straight guy work.” 

We looked at each other for a second and it was my turn to laugh. 

***

I must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing I remember was waking up as the car came to a stop in my mom’s driveway. “Morning, Sleepyhead,” Byron teased, giving a lopsided little grin. He cupped my chin with one hand and leaned in for a tentative kiss. By always starts off very timidly with his kisses, as if he’s afraid that they won’t be returned. I met his kiss and pulled him farther toward me. He grabbed my waist and basically climbed over the seat so that he was able to reach me better. I ran my hands up and down his side, shucking his shirt up in the process. I eased my lips apart and his tongue gently entered my mouth. 

Byron might be inexperienced, but he’s a fast learner. 

We had been in the driveway for about five minutes when he pulled back for a breather. “I feel sort of exposed,” he said as he pulled his shirt back down into place. 

I cracked up. He was wearing way more clothes than you would at the beach and we were surrounded by the house and garage on two sides and by a hedge on a third. By look wounded for a moment. “No, I’m sorry,” I said as I struggled to catch my breath. “I know exactly what you mean. We could go inside, if you like.” 

He went from hurt to horrified in ten seconds flat. “Inside your house? When are your parents getting home?” 

I thought about that. Both Mom and Richard are self-employed these days and they come and go throughout the day. I wasn’t anxious for Richard to come in while we were half dressed. Or worse. 

Come to think of it, I didn’t particularly want to have Richard come in while By and I were playing Parcheesi, either. I needed to talk to him and Mom before I subjected Byron to them. “Yeah,” I said with a sigh, “Maybe not a good idea today. But I’ll call you tonight and we’ll make some plans, okay?” 

He lit up. “We,” he said, sounding amazed. “I like the sound of that.” 

I laughed again. “You’ve heard the word before.” 

He grinned back at me. “Yeah, but I’ve never been part of the ‘we’ before.” 

I opened my car door and he jumped out his side. “Get used to it, my friend.” I paused as he popped open the trunk. “Or should I say my boyfriend?” 

By’s blue eyes shone. “Yeah. I like that one.” 

***

I walked into the empty house with my bags. I left most of my stuff at the bottom of the stairs without walking through the house or looking around, and headed straight to my bedroom. I felt as if there was no personality in the room—the space did not say Jeff. When Mom had first moved in, I’d been ten. It’d been done up in superheroes. As I’d outgrown the heroes, they’d been taken down and I hadn’t bothered to replace them with anything. I’d spent as little time as possible at Mom’s in the last few years, so it hadn’t mattered. Now, I wanted this room to feel like home. Like a place I wouldn’t be embarrassed to bring my friends. 

Friends. I kinda felt the way about that word that Byron did about ‘we.’ I had friends back in Palo City, but Risa and I had played the “yours and mine” game when we’d split. Seeing as I hadn’t been in the best mind set back them—it was about two months later that I ended up hospitalized—a lot of people had chosen her side over mine. I could say that I had made headway in reforming those relationships, but it was nothing compared to the ease with which I always slid back into my friendship with the triplets. Now I could add Vanessa and Haley to my list of friends, too. 

I opened my duffel bag and dug among the items I’d taken on the plane with me for something in particular. One item that had been in the room all these years was a bulletin board. It was covered in blue paper at this moment and not much else—though there was a picture of me, the triplets and their brother Nick from the day we’d decorated the room, taken by my stepsister. I left that up and gathered my envelop of photos and a bunch of thumbtacks. Up went a photo of me and my sisters, taken the day Gracie was born. Next to that went a photo of Gracie taken a couple weeks ago. I added a picture of a few of my Palo City friends making muscle poses at the beach and a couple pictures from spring break: Haley sticking her tongue out at the camera and the triplets and I standing under the sign at the teen club in Ogunquit. 

I stepped back to take a look at the room as a whole. It needed a color overhaul. Everything was tan and white, like my stepdad had picked it out. Which, come to think of it, he probably had. 

I was mentally deciding the cheapest way to add some color to the room when the front door closed and Richard’s voice came through the house. “Jeff? Are you here?” 

I opened the door to my room, which I had closed out of habit. “Yeah. Up here.” 

He appeared in the doorway a moment later. “You made it home successfully, I see. Mary Anne called me all in a tizzy.” Only Richard would use the word ‘tizzy.’ “But I was in meetings all day so I couldn’t get to the airport. Who ended up picking you up?”

“Byron.” 

“Ah, I see.” Richard adjusted his tie and looked at the ground, distinctly uncomfortable. “And is Byron your boyfriend?” 

I shifted, feeling awkward. “You could say that.” I had, in fact, said that earlier that day. Twice. 

Richard still seemed uncomfortable, but he looked me straight in the eye. “Okay, then. Here are the rules. They’re the same ones Mary Anne had when she was your age.” He began to rattle off a list of pretty standard dad stuff: no overnight guests, no curfew but call if I'm going to be home after midnight, no boys in my bedroom when no one else is home. To my surprise, the rules were less strict than at Dad and Carol’s. 

I gaped at him. “You mean,” I began, with the sense that I’d missed something, “You don’t have a problem with me dating a boy?” 

His eyes widened. “No. Why would I?” He looked bewildered. “Are you happy? Are you healthy? Are you following the law? Then you have my seal of approval.” 

I wanted to hug him, so I did. I think that surprised him more than anything else. 

***

I helped Richard make dinner while we waited for Mom. I fried up some eggs and Richard chopped tomatoes and shelled some peas. We made fried rice, which we divided into two bowls. One bowl was for Mom and me; in the other, Richard added fried pork. This was for him. Also, Mary Anne and her husband, whom I’d met twice, once at their wedding, were stopping by later that evening to catch up with me and to eat leftovers. 

Mom was home on the later side that night. By that time, I was practically drooling over the food, which was slowly cooling in the fridge. She gave me a hug and exclaimed over how tall I’d gotten. She does this every time she sees me, although I think this time she’d forgotten that it had only been a week since the last time I was in Connecticut. 

We sat down for a quick and pretty quiet meal. Mom asked me how graduation had gone. She’d wanted to go to the ceremony, but I’d told her not to bother. I hadn’t even wanted to go. Plus, when she had gone to Dawn’s graduation, she and Dad had gotten into a big argument that the whole family, both sides, had witnessed. 

It hadn’t been pretty. 

So she’d grudgingly accepted my request for her to stay away. I promised to show her pictures when I got them and told her the whole thing, overall, had been pretty boring. Richard saved me from squirming under Mom’s evil eye by talking about the case he was working, in as much detail as he was allowed to share. I’ve found that when Richard speaks legalese, I just need to smile and nod, because I don’t understand any of it. I once made the mistake of asking him to explain something, but the explanation was even more confusing than the original statement, so I’d never done that again. 

After we ate, Mom went upstairs to change into something more comfortable. I helped Richard clear the table and when we were done, I followed Mom to her bedroom. The door was open and she was in the master bathroom, brushing her teeth. I sat on her bed, waiting for her to come back out. She did a moment later, and she jumped when she saw me sitting there. “Jeff,” she gasped, “You scared me witless.” 

If it had been anyone else, I would have told them they didn’t have any wits to begin with. Sadly, with my mom, sometimes I think it’s just a little _too_ accurate, so I bit my tongue. Instead, I stretched out across the bed as Mom “tidied” things by moving items on her dresser around. After a moment or so I finally spoke up. “Mom, about prom…”

She smiled at me. “Did you and Byron have a good time? I saw your picture in the paper.” 

Something was off here. This was not the response I was expecting. It was as if Mom and Richard had been replaced with alien lookalikes or something. Dad had been all rude and sarcastic about me dating a boy, and By’s parents had gone all concerned when he’d come out to them. “Um, yeah. We did,” I stammered, trying to figure out how to broach the subject in the way I wanted. 

Mom turned around to face me. “I’m so glad. It’s good to see you happy again.” She sat down on the end of the bed. I was lying on my stomach with my head propped up, facing that way. “I don’t know why you didn’t just tell me you were going with Byron in the first place,” she said as she smoothed the quilt out in front of her with one hand. 

Ah. That wasn’t the way I intended to bring it up, but it worked. “I didn’t think you’d take it well,” I said, looking at everything but her. 

Mom stared me down. “And why not?” 

I shrugged. Even though I had wanted to get this conversation over with, it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable discussion I’d had all day. I’d had an easier time talking to Richard, for crying out loud. “Well, Dad didn’t take things well,” I began, “And I didn’t really have any answers for you. To questions you might ask, I mean.” 

She looked alarmed. “What kind of questions?” 

“You know. ‘Are you gay?’ ‘Is Byron your boyfriend?’” 

Mom relaxed. “So you have no answers to those questions?” she asked. 

I finally looked at her. “Sorta. I have no definitions for myself. My doctor says that’s okay, and that I don’t need to rush into a label if I’m not sure.” She nodded, urging me to go on. “And when you agreed to purchase some tickets for me, I would have said ‘no’ to the second question. But now….”

Mom rubbed my back, the way she used to when I was small. “Now you can say yes.” I nodded. “I know you’ve been having a tough time the last year or so. And I think anything that is going to help you be closer to the young man you were—stronger, maybe more self-aware—is a positive step in your life, and I support that.” 

I turned back toward her again. “Why can’t Dad feel that way?” 

Mom made a face, and after a moment I realized she was biting her tongue, both literally and figuratively. “I think your father is just uncomfortable with not knowing. He’s always preferred specific facts.” She sighed. “Maybe this is one time where it is best for you to just give each other some space. Give your father some time, and maybe someday you’ll have a few of the answers he’s looking for.”

I furrowed my brow. “Richard said he was okay with me and the way things are, but he also seemed really uncomfortable. I’m not going to run into problems with him, am I?”

She chose her words carefully. “Richard and I talked things over after that piece appeared in the newspaper. I don’t know if he’s…happy…for you, but he respects your right to date whoever you want. You won’t have an issue with him.”

That sounded strange. “Then why did he have such a hard time talking to me about it earlier when he gave me the rules?”

“I think,” Mom said with a small laugh, “he was a bit afraid of laying down the law for you. Dawn always had a problem with him setting boundaries with her when she was your age, and it became an ordeal after a while. I think he was just afraid you would follow in her footsteps.”

Before I could reply to that, the front door opened and a voice called out, “Hello! We’re here!” It was Mary Anne and Pete. 

Mom looked at me. “Ready to go downstairs and probably answer some more questions that you don’t want to answer?” 

I smiled. “Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Coming Soon in _The Boys of Summer_ :  
> Adam and Tiffany find each other again just when she needs it most.  
> Jeff finds a job and something else unexpected.  
> Vanessa finds a kindred spirit.
> 
>  
> 
> I’ll be taking a brief hiatus from TBoS because I need to finish a work that is four years in the making. If you’re a Daria fan, watch for Boot to the Head, coming soon to AO3! I should have a new story or two for the series within two weeks (if BttH doesn’t kill me first!)


End file.
